in the violent calm (of the coming storm)
by peppersnot
Summary: He's twisted and screwed over, and he is the first to admit it. - saruhiko centric, hints of sarumi, warnings inside


**a character study on ****fushimi** **saruhiko**

- mentions of self harm and suicide  
- LSW spoilers  
- based entirely on headcanons  
- no chronological order  
- unbeta-d and low quality; stress relief writing  
- some things from LSW that i didnt put into this because i didnt understand them properly.

Dedicated to michelle (sadistfushimi) on tumblr.

* * *

Saruhiko looks at the crayon in his hand. He breaks it in half and hands one piece to the girl with the blue dress, because he knows she's drawing apples; he'd heard her telling her friend, and you can't colour apples anything but red. She smiles and takes the piece, running off to her own seat and Saruhiko continues with his colouring.

He's done before everyone else and goes to show the teacher, who smiles.

"Who are they, Saru-chan?"

"That's me," he tells her, pointing. "And that's my dad."

"Where's your mom?"

"I don't have one," he says. "Daddy says she didn't like me so she left."

The teacher's smile wavers and she tells him it's a very pretty drawing, and he should go home and maybe give it to his dad as a gift, surely he'd love it?

Saruhiko shakes his head. "I accidentally gave myself four fingers. He'd hate it."

He folds the paper neatly, and keeps it in his pocket, smiling at the shocked teacher before going back to his seat. She watches him in confusion, not sure if he'd been doing it on purpose, or if it was pure and honest childhood innocence. He's only four after all.

When his father comes to pick him up after school that day, she notes how similar they are in appearance. Saruhiko's taller than most of the kids in class, and as she looks up at his father, she sees why. They have the same hair and eye colour, but Fushimi-san's eyes aren't like Saruhiko's. Saruhiko's are dull, and almost hollow, and they pierce through you, like kid's eyes aren't supposed to do.

"Saru-chan's doing really well in school these days," She says, and Fushimi raises an eyebrow.

"Is he, now?"

"Yes. He drew a picture today, and it was lovely." Saruhiko's eyes widen at this, and he looks at her in what she recognizes as pure horror. She's already regretting mentioning it, but now Fushimi-san is looking at his son expectantly, and Saruhiko pulls out the folded piece of paper from his pocket, silently handing it to him.

Fushimi opens the paper and looks at the drawing. For a child of Saruhiko's age, the drawing is a lot better than what she would have expected, and surely, Fushimi thinks that too, but his expression is unreadable.

"You've got four fingers, huh?"

She breathes in sharply. "It was just a mistake, wasn't it, Saru-kun?"

He nods but Fushimi shrugs and hands the paper back to his son. "Let's go. Nice meeting you," He tells her and then they're out of the classroom and she's left staring at the open door because everything is so confusing.

Saruhiko doesn't talk much to her after that – not that he did before either, but he nullifies all her attempts to make peace by not responding - and she wonders exactly what Fushimi said to him once they'd left.

It eats her inside for the rest of her career as a preschool teacher, and she distances herself from her students, until she finally quits, almost a decade after Saruhiko had already moved on to the next grade.

-oOo-

Saruhiko hates work. He's been told time and again by Awashima that if he keeps up the 'negative behaviour' towards his responsibilities, it's not going to help get anything done, but all the paperwork and assignments he gets is a burden, and he refuses to adopt a positive attitude for something as shitty as this.

"I'm getting it done, so what's the problem?" He snaps at her, every time she comes in to nag him about his laziness. She scowls and yells at him for his rudeness, and makes him work overtime. He's gotten so used to it though, that he starts singing in his head whenever she comes in, and manages to get out of the extra work by nodding and agreeing with everything she says.

He types away on his laptop, occasionally looking around at his co-workers, who are having a nice, stupid conversation about hot dogs. Saruhiko clicks his tongue and tells them all to get to work when Domyouji asks him something – he doesn't even register the question, because it's bound to be stupid anyway.

He's often thought about being nicer, because they're annoying, yeah, but they're not _that_ bad. Being nicer means they're going to think it's okay to come up and make random small talk, and Saruhiko's not up for that, so he doesn't bother.

It's not like he really knows how to be nice anyway, he'd most probably just scare them off.

**-oOo-**

Saruhiko walks up the driveway, clutching the sheet of paper he'd gotten back today. A big smiley face and a word that he can't read because it's written in joiny handwriting – like his dad's – decorates the top of the front page. He's breathing hard from having run home in all his excitement, but it'll be cool inside, and he can have water, so it's fine. He pushes open the heavy, wooden front door and runs to his dad's office. He sees the lights on under the door and knocks softly.

"It's me, Dad," He calls. "Saruhiko."

There's no response. Saruhiko frowns, because he knows his dad is inside – he's always home at this time, and the light is on – and he knows Niki can hear him, because the doors aren't soundproof. Then the locks on the door click and it opens a crack. Niki looks down at him.

"Hey, kid," he says, crouching. "What do you want?"

"I got my test back today!"

He hands the test to Niki who looks at it and makes a face. "Why is it a big deal if you can count up till 100? You're six, you should be able to."

"M-my teacher said it was a really good thing!"

"Your teacher's stupid," Niki tells him, and Saruhiko feels a pang of hurt and personal offense, because he actually likes his teacher, she's really nice and she always gives him stars for his work. "Come back when you learn your squares up till at least twenty, and then I'll even get you a present."

Saruhiko looks up at the door, which is now closed, and back at the paper. Staring at the scrawl on top, he makes it out to be an 'incredible!' and thinks maybe his teacher really is stupid, because counting up till a hundred is really no big deal, he's known how to do that for ages.

He approaches her the next day and asks her to teach him squares up till twenty, and when she stares at him in astonishment, he really doesn't understand why.

**-oOo-**

"Oy, Saru!"

The voice is loud and can only belong to one person. Sighing, he digs around in his bag for the extra bottle of coke he'd brought because he knows otherwise the one in his hand would be stolen and finished before he can so much as blink.

"Here," He says, handing the other bottle to Misaki who stares at it in surprise. "Don't take mine."

"Did you really just get me a whole bottle for myself?!"

"Yeah. Unless you don't want it."

"I want it! But didn't it like, cost a lot of money?" Misaki's eyes are widened and Saruhiko snorts.

"No. It didn't."

He thinks Misaki's fascination with money is pretty dumb, although he understands it, considering the measly amount Misaki gets as allowance. He thinks back to last night; Niki handing him a wad of thousand yen because 'you're getting old enough to need it'. He knows Niki doesn't care whether he needs it or not. He doesn't know why he still gets Saruhiko so many things; gives him so much money. Maybe Niki wants everyone to think he's a really good father, or wants the rich kid status to radiate off his son and show everyone how wealthy they are – and they're pretty wealthy, he's managed to calculate his father's monthly income - but either way, Saruhiko really doesn't care.

He looks at Misaki, who is slowly sipping his coke, not wanting it to finish so soon.

"I'll get you another one after school," he says, "And then we'll go to the game center?"

Misaki stares at him before he breaks out into a grin so bright, Saruhiko's almost dazzled. "Yeah!"

-oOo-

He scratches at the now-empty spot on his collarbone, feeling his nails dig into the newly formed skin. It's probably bleeding slightly now, and it hurts, but he doesn't really care. It'll go away soon, and the bleeding will stop.

People stare at him when he does it. Before the Ashinaka incident, when he'd still had the tattoo, they hadn't stared as much, because it wasn't that bad before. But now, when he's almost scratched off the burn marks, and it's all red and raw and painful, they give him weird looks and tell their children not to go near that Scary Man in Blue because he Looks Dangerous.

Saruhiko laughs at them in his head, because they're so right, and they don't even know it.

-oOo-

Mikoto terrifies him, if he's honest with himself, and he despises him; despises Misaki for dragging him into this stupid gang he doesn't belong in; despises Homra for being such die-hard fans of a person who has no redeeming qualities, and can only burn things, without realizing what his Fire can do to people; despises Fate for giving him a life like this; despises himself for being so weak he can't even stand up and say no.

He tries to tell himself to get over it, because it was ages ago, it shouldn't affect him anymore, but all he can think of when he's around Homra is the flames so near his face; him screaming and crying and begging for Him to stop, but nobody listens to him, because he's weak, and he's stupid and nobody cares about him anyway. He remembers a face so scary it puts even Mikoto's frown to shame, and he cries himself to sleep at night.

He hates himself in the morning for succumbing to the tears, but they come every time he gets into bed; every time he listens to Misaki's quiet snoring in the bed next to his, and he gets so used to them, it doesn't even hurt him anymore.

-oOo-

"You're old enough to get a girlfriend by now," Niki says from his spot on the sofa. Saruhiko stops on the stairs and stares incredulously at his father, who's tapping into his phone.

"What?"

"Do you have one?"

"_No_."

Niki scoffs. "Boring, aren't you?"

"Why do you care anyway?"

A shrug. "You're my son."

Saruhiko rolls his eyes and continues up the stairs. "Like you've ever cared about anything before."

"Maybe you have a boyfriend then?"

"Fuck off."

He tries not to remember how Misaki's lips feel under his, because he knows his face will give it away, and that's the last thing he wants. He thinks Niki's probably already guessed, but as long as he hasn't mentioned it, Saruhiko won't either.

-oOo-

"So Totsuka-san is dead, huh…"

Awashima nods. "Sadly."

Saruhiko clenches his fists under the table; half to control the anger and half to stop the pain. He hates that Awashima can say it so casually, hates that she even _dares_ when she didn't even know Totsuka-san, doesn't even begin to understand how much of a loss to the world Totsuka-san's death is. She's probably_happy_ that he's dead, one less Homra-punk to take care of. It pisses him off.

-oOo-

He watches the sky burn red and it makes him sick. He watches them chanting, their tears and their light alien to his eyes, and he laughs bitterly at the empty spot on his collarbone, suppressing the urge to go join them, to mourn with them, because he lost that right when he left – his king didn't die, Munakata was still alive, was he meant to be a traitor all his life?

The rest of the Blue clan has their heads low in silent lament, and Saruhiko thinks it's suffocating. All those years of fighting and plotting, and now they're silent as they grieve for someone they hated, someone they have no right to grieve for. They weren't part of Homra, they never looked up to Suoh Mikoto as their king, never betrayed him. They don't have the right, he thinks.

He looks at his king – alive and breathing – whose glasses are cracked, hands and sword bloodied red, and thinks their friendship – Munakata's and Suoh's – didn't mean anything, because Suoh had other friends, friends he was close to, who meant everything to him, like he did to them. Friends who he had just died for and Munakata would never be able to understand that.

Homra is a family, and their tears are real, their silent cries bring pain and memories Saruhiko wants to bury deep down. Homra has bonds, and their king is not just their king, he is so much more than that. Scepter 4 has no bonds – just a bunch of individuals with the drive for justice – whatever that is anymore – and they are not capable of understanding what the loss of their king is like for Homra. They never will be.

And they have no right to mourn. Saruhiko grits his teeth, and scratches his burn marks.

-oOo-

He rarely encounters Misaki anymore – not since they'd fallen into the cellar on that one mission. They're infrequent and he tries to make them as intense as possible to last him till the next time they meet, because he needs the drive to function, and Misaki is his drug.

-oOo-

He questions his sanity sometimes. He hates the red clan. Despises it down to his very core, and he wonders why he's still sitting here, why he still follows Misaki to the bar he hates so much everyday, why he still has that fucking tattoo if it means nothing to him.

"Saruhiko," Anna says so softly he almost doesn't hear her. He pries his eyes off Misaki, who is watching Suoh and Kusanagi-san talk about something. Misaki doesn't notice Anna, and Saruhiko is almost thankful about that, although he's not sure why.

"Saruhiko," Anna says again. "You need to stop doing that."

Saruhiko scowls. "Doing what? I'm not doing anything."

She shakes her head and pokes him in the chest with her index finger. "You need to stop forcing yourself, it'll kill you."

Saruhiko looks at Misaki and Anna shakes her head again. "Misaki doesn't know, Saruhiko. You have to tell him."

He ignores her for the rest of the day because he hates how she can read him so well; hates that she had to voice the thoughts he'd tried to suppress, because their being out in the air makes them so much more real.

-oOo-

Saruhiko breaks a glass. He's walking to the sink, holding the glass in one hand and the empty plate in the other. It's their best china, and he's supposed to be careful with it, but his small hands are dirty, the plate is heavy, the glass is slippery and it falls. There is a loud crash and he stands barefoot in the middle of the broken shards. Niki looks over at the sound and sighs.

"Why would you do something like that," he says. Saruhiko feels tears rise up because it's not like he did it on _purpose_, but he knows better than to say anything. "Go to your room, I'll get this cleaned up or whatever."

He looks around at the small, sharp pieces that could pierce his skin at any time – he's not wearing any shoes after all, and asks, "How?"

Niki walks over, muttering words under his breath that Saruhiko knows he'd get in trouble for repeating, picks him up in his lap and carries him to the door. "Go to your room."

As he makes his way through the giant empty house which is two big for two people, Saruhiko wonders what it would have been like to have a mother.

-oOo-

His bedroom is on the second floor, and he thinks he could easily jump off the balcony whenever he wants and get away from everything because his life is a fucking mess and he doesn't think it's worth being alive anymore. He locks the doors and gets into bed, rolling his eyes at Misaki's good night text.

-oOo-

He starts working overtime, because he needs something to keep his mind on, something to fully occupy him at all times or he's going to go insane, he knows it. He comes in before everyone else and is the last to leave, save for Munakata, who barely leaves his office anymore.

Saruhiko's been inside maybe three times since the Ashinaka incident a year ago, and the sword in its case is still stained with blood. It makes him nauseous.

Sometimes Awashima stays longer than he does, and he bemusedly watches her futile attempts to make Munakata go home, 'it's late, you need to rest'. They're equal amounts surprised when one day the large mahogany doors open and Munakata Reisi comes out, smiles at the two of them and says he's going home.

Awashima waits for half an hour after he's gone before she brings out the dirty sword and scrubs until it is shining. Saruhiko disdains her for it.

"Don't do that," he tells her, but she's deaf and blind to everything else now, she wants the blood of her enemies off the sword of her savior, and she won't let anything stop her. Saruhiko continues working.

Munakata notices it of course. It's the first thing he sees when he comes in the next morning. He takes the now sparkling sword out of its case and makes a face at how clean it is.

"Did you do this, Fushimi-kun?" he asks and Saruhiko sees Awashima across the room, tensing up as Munakata waits for an answer.

He hesitates for a second before nodding. "Yeah."

Munakata smiles. "Why would you do something like that?"

The nostalgia is staggering and Saruhiko basks in the aura of disappointment, feeling so fucking alive.

-oOo-

Niki laughs at his fascination with ants and stomps on the nest he's worked so hard on researching all summer. Saruhiko finds the kitchen knife and takes it up to his room.

-oOo-

"What I'm interested in, is flesh and blood," He tells a glaring Misaki and laughs at the furious expression. Misaki doesn't get it. Misaki is stupid and naïve and Misaki doesn't get what's important. He never has.

He dodges the punches and kicks aimed at him and laughs when Misaki tells him he's weak.

"No." He picks up his glasses. "I've gotten stronger."

Misaki scoffs and attacks again, and this time he uses one of the knives he keeps hidden up his sleeve. It sends through him a wave of excitement because it's been so long since he last used them; he's so full of energy, feels so powerful and everything is so vibrant – so colourful, he's blinded.

The scent of Misaki's blood is metallic and he can smell it even from that distance. He smirks because hurting Misaki is so painful, it feels right.

-oOo-

He presses the knife against his skin, unsure of what he's doing and how to do it. The blade is cool and he stares at it for a second, applying a little bit of pressure. He sees the first few beads of blood and throws the knife into the dustbin. Niki asks him why he's been wearing long sleeves in the summer and he mumbles some excuse about getting sunburnt before slamming the front door behind him.

-oOo-

"Your teacher called today."

Saruhiko's hand freezes and the rice on his fork fall back into his plate. He looks up and frowns. "She did?"

Niki nods. "What did you get on your math test today?"

"A hundred on hundred," he mumbles.

The silence that follows is full of awkward tension. He can hear the clattering of his fork against the plate, and the thud with which Niki puts his glass down on the wooden table.

"That's my boy."

Saruhiko coughs on his water. Niki watches in amusement as he regains himself and when he looks up, Niki is smiling with his eyes and his mouth, but there's a difference in the kind of smile in his eyes and it makes him tense up, makes him cower under that intense gaze.

"Isn't that what you wanted me to say?" Niki scoffs and drinks directly from the bottle of vodka he has in front of him. "Math is for losers."

_"__Wow, Saru-kun! You're so smart!"_

_"__Saru-kun is the only one I've ever taught who knows how to do trigonometry so well at such a young age! I can't believe you're only ten!"_

Saruhiko nods and swallows the lump in his throat. "Yeah, it's for losers."

He finishes the rest of his food in silence and when he gets up to his room, the first thing he does is tear the test paper into shreds, throwing them into the fireplace.

-oOo-

Saruhiko is more than okay with the fact that the Blue Clan is not a family, because he doesn't think he'd be able to cope with that.

-oOo-

He hates that small part of him that remembers Homra as a home, even if it wasn't one. He remembers mansions that weren't home, small apartments that felt so much like home, bars that stole away his home and dorms that smelt like hospital wards that keep you chained up inside like a prisoner. He'd left Homra to be able to bring them down, and he loathes himself for missing the feeling of belonging to a 'family', because Homra isn't his family, it never was his family, he detests them and always will. But they were a family, if not the family, and the smiles and bonds still felt a tiny bit like home.

-oOo-

"Saru-kun!" Mrs. Yata exclaims, hugging him. She is young and thin, and has the same red hair that Misaki does. A baby girl hangs off her hip and a boy a little bit older hides behind her leg. "I'm so glad I finally got to meet you! Misaki-chan never shuts up about you!"

Misaki flushes at this and tries to change the topic by telling the boy to not be rude and say hello. Saruhiko smiles.

The kid, introduced as Makoto – another girl's name, Saruhiko thinks with a chuckle – looks at him with big and wide hazel eyes as he shakes his hand, and it's not the way other people stare at him. People look at him like he's a freak. This kid looks at him in awe and admiration and Saruhiko thinks maybe he likes that.

After his mother has served them chocolate milkshakes and cookies, Misaki drags him up to his room. "It's not as big as yours, but I mean, I have siblings and my dad doesn't have his own thing like yours does – "

Saruhiko breaks him off with a kiss and settles on the bed that is so much smaller and so much more comfortable than his own. He digs around in his bag and brings out the game Misaki had been dying for. "Surprised?"

Misaki's smile makes his whole day better.

-oOo-

"I'm not sharing," Is the first thing he says when Munakata leads him to the dorms.

The smile he receives is sardonic and mind-blowingly similar to everything he'd been trying to run away from and he almost stops breathing.

"Alright, Fushimi-kun. You can have your own room."

-oOo-

He sees his mother at Niki's funeral. He doesn't approach her, and she doesn't approach him either. She's young and thin and dressed in black and all he can think of his Misaki's mom, who looks so homely and happy, who looks like a _mom. _He stares at this woman, wondering if he really is his mother; maybe she's some other woman Niki had had an affair with, but then she turns and his eyes meet hers and no, she really is his mom. He nods in acknowledgement and she turns away without any response and he reminds himself, "_She left because you're a little shit and she didn't like you. Even I don't like you, but I'm your dad and I have to take care of you or I'll be arrested, and that would suck."_

-oOo-

Saruhiko used to keep count of the days passed since he'd last kissed Misaki. It had been three days since when he'd left. He kept a calendar in his new room at the Scepter 4 dorms and kept counting. Days turned to months and months turned to years.

He still keeps a calendar – on his desk now, though – and marks the date in red.

Akiyama picks it up one day and smiles. "You really like Scepter 4, huh, Fushimi-san?"

Saruhiko glares. "I hate it."

The temperature of the atmosphere decidedly drops a few degrees and Akiyama nods, his confusion apparent. "O-okay then…"

Awashima shakes her head and sends him to Homra to deliver an important message to Kusanagi-san. He glowers. He ignores Misaki's yells as he enters, hands the envelope to the bartender and leaves without another word.

Later, he thinks he might have liked to say something – anything - if it hadn't been so hard to breathe in there.

-oOo-

"You're the best son ever," Niki slurs, as he falls face first onto Saruhiko's bed. He laughs into the pillow at what he thinks is a hilarious joke and falls asleep. Saruhiko covers him with the duvet and takes his books to the spare bedroom across the hall.

-oOo-

"Who the fuck gets ten thousand yen to spend, huh?" One of the guys says and Saruhiko clenches his fists. He's grabbed by the collar and slammed into the wall. The pain that surges through his head is unbearable and he tries to think of ways to push the boys off. His hand twitches towards his pocket and he opens his mouth to tell them they can have the money but he's cut off by a yell and suddenly he's standing free and bruised, with a redheaded kid in front of him, yelling at the guys who'd been bullying him.

"JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE FUCKING JEALOUS DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN FUCKING DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!" The kid yells, and they yell back, attacking him and Saruhiko almost runs to get help, because the kid is tiny, and he'd die, he's going to _die –_

The bullies leave them alone, but not until they've given the redhead – who Saruhiko recognizes from Class 3 – a black eye, a bloody nose and a cut lip.

"You're an idiot," he says, and it's mostly directed at himself.

-oOo-

"You're everything," Misaki mumbles in his sleep as he snuggles closer, his skin fire against Saruhiko's own.

-oOo-

The biggest present under the tree is his. It's a remote controlled airplane that can fly up to 20 meters, the box says. Niki tells him to show it off to his friends, and the bike outside is his too.

People tell him he's lucky, and he shrugs, because they're stupid, they don't know anything. He keeps the plane a secret and gives it to Misaki on his birthday.

-oOo-

Awashima's 'unrivalled' loyalty to her king leads to her stating that she'd die with Munakata and Saruhiko actually laughs out loud. It's ridiculous, he thinks, because there is nobody in the world who can be more loyal, more dedicated to their king than Homra was to Suoh, and Homra is still alive; Homra still functions without their king, so who does this bitch think she is?

-oOo-

"He might not live," The doctor tells him.

"Good."

-oOo-

The fire and hate in Misaki's eyes as they stand in the middle of the stinking alleyway makes his own fire burn. He laughs at Misaki's hurt expression, remembering how badly he takes betrayal and thinks, oh, maybe this counts as betrayal too.

Misaki takes a step back when his fingers glow red.

(Are you scared of me? I don't want to hurt you.)

He burns his mark and it feels so good; he's been thirsty for the pain, hungry for the attention and he's getting it now, and it brings him back to life.

He always looks back and regrets it.

-oOo-

He's twisted and screwed over, and he is the first to admit it.

He's lost and he's alone and he's so deeply embedded into the darkness, he knows he's beyond help, but honestly, he doesn't really even want it. He's numb, and it makes him happy. He's immune to the pain, protected from the pinpricks of reality by immersing himself into an obsession so strong, it takes over his very being. He laughs to keep up the façade, cries to himself at night, punishes himself for his cruelty and idiocy by going deeper into the shadows that keep drinking up his soul.

He knows he's destroyed everyone who ever tried to reach him, and he's so hollow and so dead, and it makes him feel so alive it's disgusting; it's sickening; it makes him feel amazing.

In the end, he thinks the world would have been better off without him, anyway.

* * *

_a/n: i know it sucked i'm sorry_


End file.
